Skeptic
by M. Tsukai
Summary: Dorothy takes on Relena as an uncooperative political rival after the war, though the girls are close behind closed doors. When Heero appears again, sensing a possible conflict, some very interesting secrets come to life
1. Chapter 1

Skeptic-A GW Story

Author's note: Well, I was wasting a perfectly good study hour reading some groovy fanfiction and...this happened. Apologies for the oddness.

We eat in silence. I'm munching on an exotic leafy salad, while Relena is picking through her French style veal cordon bleu. I rarely eat in this place-too high brow, not for the me who is a Duchess Catalonia, but for me as Dorothy. I'm a snob, but a moodily unpredictable one. And so I swallow

once again and glance at Relena.

My rival. My friend. My conscience.

Who is madly, undeniably, obsessively in love with a sociopath. Or perhaps a psychopath, I'm not much of a psychologist. Is this about the time I'm supposed to admit to some passionate love of my own-possibly Ms. Relena herself? We have good news and bad news. Good news, ugh, I am not in the least interested in Rel (heck, I don't even call her Ms. Relena anymore),but on the down side I'm not in it.

Love, that is. And so I finish the last of my salad, my fork sending a kaleidoscope of flavors into my palate. Without taking the utensil from my mouth, I straighten up in my seat.

He's here. Or one of them anyway.

The joys of the Zero system.

Relena continues to stare at her food, but she knows.

"Gotta go." I slide from my seat and head for the back door. It wouldn't do

anyone any good to see me with the Vice Prime Minister-even if it's...

"Miss Dorothy"

I don't turn around, just continue my path back to my office.

"Mr. Winner. What a surprise."

He follows me. I extended the invitation mentally. I can't afford to damage my fragile newly rebuilt reputation with this sort of company. I turn on a side street and head home. It's better that way.

"Please don't remind me how long it's been, dear." I nodded to my retainers as they left my living room. "It's a past I'm not particularly fond of."

He sat on one of the giant pillows I'd bought after my appointment into government. I smiled.

"The Preventers have a problem"

"Is that really a surprise?"

"You're trying to eliminate them. Why?"

"They impede the nature of humanity."

"It's not an advantageous position to be in, you know"

"As I am very well aware, thank you."

And so our spoken conversation continued, each veiled threat and lie building to convince whoever has been watching me that I was doing what a Catalonia did: manipulate the entire situation with no thought to the real issues presented.

But the real conversation consisted of planning and a lot of compromise.

Between the both of us

'Hilde's joining us in this operation. She's a hacker-one of the best there is.'

'Better than...him?'

'Think about that for a minute. Is there anyone better than him-at anything?'

'And what exactly is my job again? I'm not too thrilled playing the bait'

'We need an inside person, someone to keep an eye on...him.'

"My patience is normally inexhaustible, but I am afraid that you have really gone too far!" Quatre fixed his turquoise orbs on me and gave a credible, but ineffective Death Glare. I turn from his face, from the entire situation, it would seem, and gaze out of the window. Or so it appears. In reality, I'm focusing on one of the many cameras that I was assured was in the room. I want them to catch every feigned moment. Because when I got my hands on them...

"You know where the door is. Let's not do this again, shall we?"

I try to stifle my grin.

He makes sure to slam the door.

Melodramatic. Silly Quatre. Silly loveable unfortunately-not-my-type Quatre.

After I eat three bags of popcorn and watch old vids, I wash my hair and go

to bed. It's ten o'clock.

The next day I take pains to make sure I look imposing for my speech for the World Council. Surrounding me are the best of the beauty world, retained to make an impression. I gave them three and a half hours and nearly 4000 credits. They give me a darker rinse for my hair, the latest in haute

couture for the busy politician, and perfectly applied makeup. I look great and feel great. Though I normally walk to work (I live ten blocks from work), I engage my mother's driver to pick me up in one of her Rolls

Royces and drive me to my office, then to the Conference.

"Dorothy Catalonia is on the agenda today to address the Council"

some low-level representative mutters. I make sure to give my fellow members a demure smile. I don't know which one of them is spying on me, watching and waiting for an opportunity to...I don't know what. They're the ones spying, after all.

Relena, who sits in front of the members, stands up and gives us all a brief overview of her position on inter-colonial alliances. Several senators applaud at the appropriate places. She is poised and natural and capable.

Undefeatable.

It's my turn, and so I walk purposefully to the platform. Where Relena is opening and inviting, I am cold and logical. I utilize charts, quotes, and information from the Romerfellow organization. Where she stands at one place and merely gestures, I walk around, using movement to punctuate my points.

I end with a feigned glare at Relena.

We play the game well, she and I.

The votes were tied, and the arguments heated, so we adjourn for lunch. I follow my fellow constituents towards the cafeteria, break away, and walk down the hall towards a secret exit, a maneuver I assume Relena is performing elsewhere. We meet at a café three blocks down.

She tries the gourmet fish taco, while I stick with filet mignon-medium rare.

We discuss our views-we're really on opposite sides, but we each appreciate the other's view.

"You're really good at this" she says, her mouth full of fish and tortilla.

"We have to keep up appearances," I answer and I fiddle with the vegetables that accompanied my entree. The steak's juicy but flavorless; the plants are half-cooked and have been boiled.

"Is she coming?" Relena focuses on her food but still seems to know everything.

I don't get to answer, because a girl with strawberry blond curls approaches our table.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Hilde has changed. She is a married woman now, a high ranking member of the Preventers, and an undercover agent. She has dyed her traditionally blue locks blonde. She still laughs loud and has her rarely noticeable German accent.

And she has a child, a little girl she and Duo named 'Lissette'.

She outlines the plan carefully, emotionlessly, and quickly. Relena is unsure, but we all know this is no longer an unimportant mission.

"This is dangerous" I say what we've all been thinking since we first began outlining our idea. But I won't think it again.

It's a necessary endeavor.

We all decide to blow off the rest of the meeting and enjoy ourselves. Hilde invites us to her home, and we cooed over daughter and husband, the former a spitting image of her mother, and the latter sick with the flu. Relena takes us all on a plane trip to what once was North America. We walk around the ruins and take pictures and gawk at the poverty. I treat us all to gelato and designer chocolates.

We laugh, we talk, we bond.

We are biding our time.

It is late and we return to our respective homes, tired and pleased and happy.

And hopeful.

"Dorothy? DOROTHY? Donde estas?" I am late to the office for the third time

this week. Carmen, my housekeeper storms into my room with all of the authority and dignity of crowned heads of state. I was awake-not asleep, but lost in thought. For a long time I thought I knew who my voyeur was. As I am realizing, looking into what may or may not be a camera, even a simple exchange with the help could be used for nefarious purposes.

"Carmen, I have asked you repeatedly to…"

"There is the Vice-Prime Minister to see you, madame." The lilthe swarthy forty-something reaches through the canapy and rips off the sheets off my person. It takes fifteen minutes to get dressed, to get down the stairs.

Relena is at the foot of it, clutching a wellworn envelope, an uncharacteristic frown painted over her features.


	2. Tell

Tell

"Someone's got Pargan."

Damn it. It couldn't be…It's very important not to get defensive. Or get excited. Or show any emotion, for that matter. Relena takes a little worry and turns it into full-blown hysteria. Honestly, though, I can't blame her.

"He…wouldn't do something like that." The words are out of my mouth before I can reign them in.

"I don't think I believe you." Her frown reversed and quirked itself at the ends; I ran my fingers through my hair. I send Carmen for tea and sequester the other girl in the parlor. It had been so long since I've dealt with espionage and secrets (important ones, anyway), and all of the things that come with being involved with the state of the world.

"We stick to the plan. Stay calm." That wasn't a suggestion. _Whoever_ it was, we needed answers.

"Read this. Then tell me how calm you'd feel! It's Pargan, Dorothy" She flings the square of paper at me, her hands shaking. It takes less than a moment to interpret the data, but a full minute before the implications hit with full force.

"Okay." I turn from my friend to the phone and begin dialing.

Quatre is the first to arrive and I'm not surprised. He gets the information direct, anyway, and takes over the difficult job of consoling Relena. Pargan had been like…he was her father, all things being equal. It takes a lot for the 'Queen of the world' to cry, but she's collapsed in Quatre's arms, and that gives me a respite form the insanity.

Who the hell would want to take the wind out of Relena Peacecraft-Dorlian's sails?

Okay, who wouldn't?

The note…and I'd torn the thing to shreds as soon as I'd understood it, was suggestive, as if I were somehow behind the whole thing. What Relena didn't suspect, but what the rest of the Preventors would take for fact was that I was jealous of her bill.

That damn bill…and we had been arguing at the Conference…and I had played the antagonistic bully to the hilt.

"Ms. Hilde is here, madam."

I wander, lost in thought, into the foyer to keep the rest of the dispatched group out of Relena's sight. The things you do for a friend…I shake my head at the errant thought.

"I swear to God, Dorothy, if you're behind this…" a flash of a long dark braid shakes me from my thoughts. Standing behind Hilde (restraining himself, sort of) was Duo Maxwell. Just what I _didn't_ need. I forced a smile, and I'm really good at that, and told myself that his opinion didn't matter, regardless of how highly he ranked in that overgrown Boy Scout club.

"Save your breath; Relena will want to see you." I point down the hall, and waited until he left the room.

She stared at me, her eyes inscrutable and dull. She hasn't been sleeping well, and this situation has caught the both of them at a really bad time and I couldn't even allow myself to that about that because whoever was busy snooping on me was also trying to frame me; I'd worked too hard to redeem myself after the war and now someone was trying to destroy it all.

I don't break easily, however, and so I don't break her gaze. Eventually she looks away and nods, which I take to be the universal sign of "WTF?" and I gave her my assessment.

Damn it all to hell…

My home is now full of law enforcement and not one of them is Heero Yuy, which is a surprise because the story broke over twenty-five hours ago, and he _always_ comes to save her.

I'm not jealous, okay?

Trowa doesn't bother speaking to me, but Wufei mutters expletives in my direction when I tell him about the note. They've spent most of the day searching my rooms (discretely, of course. The family name still wields certain aristocratic privileges, and these are the most dangerous (and silent) young men on the face of the planet) and I'm being followed from the grocery store to my favorite antique bookstore to the nightclub I frequent when I'm in town. I keep my mouth shut (uncharacteristically) and my eyes open and send Quatre telepathic messages every half-hour, which he rarely anwers. He's still at my house, and since no one will leave it, I do. They send rookies after me, but they're good enough, and the only reason I don't try to disappear is because I'm hoping my mystery guest will take a hint and show up.

I am accosted at the doughnut shop two days later.

"You're Lady Catalonia, right?" I'm at the door of a trendy eatery trying to sneak out. I'm dressed like everyone else, from the well-worn jeans to the black baseball cap that hides most of my blonde hair.

"Who are you?" The guy is taller than me, thin but not athletic, with a mop of red curls and a smile that oozes innocence.

"You've seen the note, right? Of course; we've been watching you." I freeze. That was the one element we all agreed to keep out of the news; Duo figured that only someone who knew too much would bring that up. Trust a Gundam pilot to think a couple of steps ahead of a regular investigation. He is smile is plastic, as if it were molded to fit this entire conversation, this crowd of people shuffling around the two of us. I take a moment to place the officers charged with following me. They are gone. I have a decision to make; I don't resist as he takes my arm like a gallant beau and steers me out of the shop and into the madding crowd outside.

He doesn't talk, and I don't press him, and don't bother trying to use the remnants of Zero to assault his mind. For the first time in a long time, I am afraid.

"I won't kill him, Ms. Catalonia, if that's what you're worried about." I stifle a laugh, because that is the least of my fears. He was an old man, a butler dedicated to the sole heiress of a dead Royal name, a man who was seen but not heard. I could sleep if he never woke up again.

So much for my mind.

We followed the tourist crowd through the popular attractions until we reached the Earth Alliance headquarters in the middle of the city. He has a car, a sleek red number, and opens the door to usher me in. As I buckle my seatbelt, I feel the steel chill of metal pressed against my neck, and then I don't feel anything at all.

­­­­­­­­_We are an element of society that pursues the hope of eliminating dangers to our new peace. This man is sacrificed in order to gain the attention of our next target, a person of your acquaintance, the Duchess of Catalonia. If you wish to see your servant a__gain, you will deliver her into our hands._

"You're quite the rebel, aren't you, Dorothy?" The fact that the voice is the same friendly casual one worries me even more than the question. I wake to the darkness and dankness of an abandoned warehouse; my hands are bound behind me, and the only think that I can concentrate on is how uncomfortable this metal chair is. I know without thinking that trying to contact Quatre would be useless. The boy sits in front of me, his smile the same sickening saccharine flavor.

"Have you been spying on me?" I am careful to sound nonplussed. I have something they need, else I would be dead now. There is a corner of my heart, in the smallest vein, that feels a twinge of disappointment.

"Do you remember the Zero system, Dorothy?" He dismisses my question as either irrelevant or obvious with a wave of his hand. His hands are large, the knuckles oversized and intimidating. I'm getting that feeling in my stomach, you know, when you feel like whatever you've eaten is about to make an encore appearance. I nod. It's a safe motion.

"Not many have tangoed with it and survived, you know." His voice takes a darker edge. "People have died because of it…no one knows why."

"You have to be _strong_."

"Like Quatre? Is Quatre such a mind?"

He doesn't say anymore, but he doesn't have to. I have no choice. He's like a brother and I can't draw him…or any of them back into another war. I won't.

"There are scientists…they disappeared during the Wars…they have perfected the use of carbon-based nanotechnology. The Doctors Rhodes."

I sigh. Lila and Evander are such nice people…

_Relena,_

_I'm fine, but I'm taking a few days to visit my aunt on the Venusian moons. Will see you in about a week or so._

There was a motion, on my part, to insist that she not share the information with anyone but that would sound suspicious. The moon were far enough away, however, that they would waste too much time traveling there to keep me from my goal.

Mission accepted, I guess.


End file.
